Thorn was walking steadily away from Khandr's house toward the Hunt. But his mind was with the Song; it had grown in dissonance with the Morgoth theme growing in power. His minion amid the Ulfings had struck, her rage and envy blaring like reed pipes, high pitched and piercing. Khandr's lifeblood was spilling on the ground and staining Jord's gown with bloodguilt.

Khandr's heart beat its final halting dirge.

Too soon, too soon to my doom
and the end of hope for my folk.

Nay, it was not so. Thorn was aware that Jord's envy and rage, while adding to her might for the kill, rendered her almost deaf to the Song, and so she did not know who sang Khandr's elegy.

Bold you lived, Borrim lord,
caring for kin, friends and folk.
Bolder in death, O bringer of boons,
you warned the wary, sending word
to Borrim folk of Ulfing betrayal,
of doom the Bauglir wrought in his wrath.
The haughty heed not the warnings of woe,
but the humble hear and will heed your word.
The sons of your folk will find safety,
their daughters sing of the selfless deeds
of kindly Khandr, beloved lord.
Not vain your death, but valorous and daring.
Rest till you run where wrath cannot follow;
Hie you home beyond the walls of the world.